The Exotic Rose
by pegasus-fics
Summary: Trying to erase the estrangement before their wedding, Christine and Raoul travel to Persia. What they find there will alter their lives forever. E/C, movie based
1. Discoveries

**Hello and welcome to my new story! I know what you're thinking but no, I am not abandoning 'Curse of the Mask' at all (if you haven't read it, please do!), I'm simply starting another plot bunny that has been bothering me for ages. :D**

**This fic is based on the movie (the characters look like their movie counterparts but feel free to imagine them as you like), set after the final lair scene. In this story, Erik had never been to Persia prior to this and had not become the Shah's assassin as was described in Susan Kay's 'Phantom'. I'm only borrowing the character of Nadir from that book. :)  
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**I'm also aware that the idea of harems was exaggerated and 'romanticized' by Europeans and did not look/work like I describe them, but for the purpose of this story, let's just say they did. :)**

**I hope you enjoy this sneak peek!**

**I don't own anything POTO related.**

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Christine Daae stood in the middle of the room, trying to suppress her trembling. Fear and apprehension shadowed her earlier excitement of visiting a foreign country. The unfamiliar smells and sights faded into obscurity in her mind as reality brought her back to present. Her eyes were downcast, staring at her skirt which seemed so out of place here, very much aware of the two scrutinizing gazes upon her and the tight grip on her arm.

"An exotic beauty, to be sure." The man's voice stated and she realized her pale complexion was highly unusual in this country. "Was she alone?"

"No, she was accompanied by a man, her fiance. One of french nobility. He is in the prison at the moment." Christine's head rose up sharply as the woman mentioned Raoul and stared at the two people in front of her. Their skin was darker colour, their coffee coloured eyes scanning her from head to toe. They wore opulent dresses and head garbs, their wealth clearly displayed in their gold accessories and the gold overtones in the walls, pillars and archways, the architecture very different than what she was used to. The Shah and Empress of Persia, known as the two most powerful people in the country.

"Interesting. She is untouched, then?" The man said and Christine felt sick to her stomach at the sudden change of topic. "She is barely nineteen. What is her name?"

"Yes, she is pure." The Shah seemed to contemplate something and she swallowed the knot in her throat. Her destiny was yet uncertain and she wondered if they would kill both her and Raoul. "Her name is Christine Daae."

"She would be a nice addition to my harem." Christine blanched at the thought; while she did not know much about Persia, she knew what being in a harem meant.

"Or maybe she is the gift you have been looking for." He looked at his wife in amazement. "You know the master architect refuses to use your girls for pleasure. Maybe if he had his own girl, someone from his own country... I think she would be a nice gift for all the work he did on our new palace." The Empress gestured around them with a smile. Christine swallowed a gasp, they were talking about her as if she were a...a..._commodity_! To be gifted to a man for his perverse pleasures!

"You are brilliant, my dear wife." The man turned to a woman lounging back on plush pillows not far from the throne. "Zahra? Would you please prepare the girl? I want her to be ready in half an hour."

"Of course, your Majesty." The woman gave a quick curtsy and took hold of Christine's arm and motioned for the guard to let go. Zahra pulled her in the direction of the exit and Christine followed automatically, the eunuch following a step behind. She wanted to run but knew that it would not be possible and she dared not risk Raoul's life this way. Who knew what the Shah and his wife were capable of?

In other circumstances she would have admired the foreign architecture, the marbled floors, the high ceilings and the stark white and gold of the walls. The palace was beautiful but at the moment she cared not. They arrived in a large room filled with women and girls with two eunuchs guarding the entrance. She was led into a secluded room in the back. It was very warm and inviting, brick coloured walls adorned with paintings and ornaments, plush pillows everywhere on the ground covered by persian rugs.

Several women flocked around her and she heard Zahra say something to them in a language Christine did not understand. They circled her in a flurry of bright colourful garments that revealed more than hid. Their clothes reminded her of the costumes she had sometimes worn in the Opera Populaire as a member of the ballet corps. She knew these were the Shah's concubines.

She started when they began tugging at the fastenings of her dress, shocked when they began pulling it down from her body. Bewildered, she tried to slap their hands away but they merely laughed and continued undressing her. Their moves were quick and efficient and soon she was standing bare in front of these strange women. She covered her modesty as much as she could with her hands but they simply smiled at her embarrassment. While she was used to undressing in front of other women and girls ever since she had joined the ballet corps, nobody looked at her like this and rather minded their own business. Their stares unnerved her and she blushed, trying not to think about it.

She sighed. When was the last time she had thought about the Opera house? Mere two days ago, when she had seen a beautiful dress in a shop window that reminded her of the one she wore during her debut. It has been nearly five months since the chandelier disaster and she found herself missing her old home more and more. Shaken and cold from the subterranean lake, Raoul had taken her to his estate. It had been all very proper, she has had her own room and nothing untoward had happened.

They had been both out of sorts for a week after that; Raoul having suffered a cold, Christine mentally exhausted. They had not discussed what had happened and had steadfastly ignored any mention of music, opera or theatre. Two weeks later Raoul had returned home with a new engagement ring. She had forced a smile on her face as he had slipped it on her finger; it was too gaudy, more than the first one and felt like a dead weight adorning her hand. They had not discussed the wedding nor the date and she felt grateful. She was not ready for a marriage to Raoul, not when her mind swirled with doubts and guilt.

Most nights, she had dreamt. Dreams of a tall man shrouded in darkness, man that had not been her fiance. A man that had made her feel whole and her heart had swelled in his mere presence. It had been around that time when her and Raoul's estrangement happened; she was not quite sure why or how, she just knew they had grown more distant as time passed. She had tried to make it work but every time he would touch her or kiss her chastely on her lips, she felt empty inside. That had been when Raoul had decided they needed to get away from France for some time. He had chosen the distant lands of Persia but during their holiday they would stop for a day in other foreign countries. Christine was enjoying their trip up until this point, though she felt it did little to improve their relationship.

They had been in Tehran not even two days when they had been kidnapped. She did not know why. She remembered screaming for him when they had been separated and him telling her that it would be okay before she had been knocked unconscious. She feared for her and Raoul's lives and wished she could do something to release him from prison. Maybe if she begged the Shah and his wife, they would relent? She would give up her freedom and become a concubine if it meant that Raoul would be released and safe. The thought brought her back to present and she observed the women as they circled around her, laying various coloured fabrics against her skin, then taking away the cloth with a frown on their face. It did not take them long to find the colours that suited her and they happily dressed her. Christine automatically moved as they instructed, resigned to her fate - there was nothing she could do to get away.

She was to become some stranger's mistress and would be forced to submit her body to the man. She was terrified and felt incredibly light headed. Christine had been surprised to hear the man had turned down Shah's concubines. Maybe if she was lucky, he would turn her down too? She remembered hearing the Empress say he was from the same country as Christine. Despite her troubled thoughts, she wondered just who the mysterious Frenchman was.

It wasn't long before she was completely dressed, though that statement overestimated the coverage of her skin. She looked at herself in the full length mirror on one of the walls. She had worn a similar costume back in the Opera, but nothing had felt as fine as the silk now resting against her skin. The long flowing skirt reminded her of the gold one she had worn during Don Juan Triumphant, thought this was crimson and had little gold details adorning it. Thankfully the material was not too see-through, but it had a large slits on both sides, revealing the whole of her leg when she walked. The waistline was decorated with many coin-like decorations that jingled every time she moved. The undergarments she wore were very strange and form fitting as they covered only the necessary parts and not the thighs as she was used to. Her midsection was mostly bare, the gold elaborate cloth of her top covering only her breasts and a strip of skin underneath. There were short puffy crimson sleeves connected to the top, made of sheer silk. A beautiful jewel adorned her head and hung down her forehead and a red and gold a little see through headscarf covered her hair, nose and mouth, making her appear very mysterious. Even though the costume was highly improper in her country and even more so of a future Vicomtess, she found herself quite beautiful.

"Come, my dear. I'm going to lead you back now." Zahra took her by the hand and slowly they walked out of the room into the main spacious harem and past a door. "As you might have guessed, I look after all the other girls in the harem. I am the Shah's first concubine. Of course you are not a part of the harem but you will be given to the master architect and you will service only him. Nevertheless, our function is the same." She waved nonchalantly at a doorway to Christine's right. Christine turned her head to look and immediately forced herself to stare back ahead. What she saw had been unexpected, causing a wild blush to spread across her cheeks. While she was not ignorant to the topic of intimacy, she had never thought she would see a couple, or even multiple couples, during the act in plain daylight. She had often stumbled upon nightly trysts of some of the chorus girls, but those were in the darkness and she could only hear moans of the two people involved as she quickly walked away.

Zahra beside her only gave an amused chuckle and continued leading her out of the harem rooms while Christine tried to erase the image from her memory. As much as she hated what fate forced her to do, she consoled herself with the fact that she would be only _servicing_ one man. If he was a Frenchman, maybe she could try and befriend him, make it a little less awkward and embarrassing. But that would only depend on the man's character and suddenly Christine's hope faded. They wandered through the hallways where they came across an olive skinned man with jade eyes and wearing traditional Persian clothes. He smiled warmly as they approached him; his eyes were warm and kind and Christine felt at ease despite not knowing the gentleman.

"Zahra, it is nice to see you." He addressed the woman next to her in their native tongue. His eyes slid to hers and noted with surprise the fair color of her skin. "Is this a new concubine?" For Christine's benefit, Zahra replied in her accented French.

"Hello, Nadir. She is not a concubine, she has been gifted to the master architect by His Majesty." Monsieur Nadir's eyebrow rose in surprise and slight disbelief but before he could say anything, Zahra continued, addressing Christine. "This is Nadir Khan, he is the daroga here - the chief of police."

"Pleased to meet you, monsieur." She said quietly.

"My pleasure, Miss-?"

"Christine Daae." Zahra provided and Christine could see how the man in front of her blanched and his eyes widened. "If you'd excuse us, we need to go back to the Shah." The man only swallowed and nodded, letting them pass and Christine could feel his gaze on her back. What was it about her name that made the man react so? They have not met before, have they? She was sure she would remember such distinguished person. She did not know how far abroad the Don Juan scandal spread, but then again no one else seemed to recognize her name before. Perhaps he simply travelled and read the French newspaper.

Finally they arrived to the grand room but stood aside while the Shah talked to the master architect. Christine's eyes swung from the emperor sitting on the throne to the man standing a few steps away from the raised podium. Her eyes first took in his black trousers and then trailed up his form, noting his straight posture and his hands linked behind his back as he stood silent, listening to the Shah.

"I know I have paid you for all the marvellous work you did on my new palace but I wanted to give you an extra special gift."

Christine studied the gentleman's profile and found herself struck with shocking familiarity. She swallowed and continued with her perusal of his features; the angle of his jaw, the curve of his strong neck and the elegant slope of his nose. It could not be! She was glad he could not see her, this way she could just simply stare at him without his knowledge. He had almost always been half hidden in shadows, creating a dramatic air around him but now he was bathed in the setting sunlight and looked almost...ethereal. For long years she had thought him to be a celestial being but now she knew he was a man like any other - solid flesh, muscle and bone, so very near. He was here.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, but there is no need."

"I insist. I know you have turned down my offer to visit my harem." The Shah smiled and the other man's jaw tightened. "Therefore I decided to gift you with a beautiful woman for only your own disposal. She is French, so I'm sure you will find some common interests. Zahra, please bring in the girl."

Christine's heart doubled its pace and her knees shook as Zahra led her further to the room. She watched him turn towards them and nearly froze in the spot when her eyes met the intense green of her Angel's. She had forgot how breathless he made her with just one look but stood her ground as she drank in all of his features like a woman in a desert grateful for any drop of water. He was exactly as she remembered except for the flesh coloured mask on the right side of his face, which was almost invisible if you did not know of its existence. His eyes suddenly sparked with recognition and she could see him tense up, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Surely he could not recognize her when her face was mostly obscured by the veil?

"Remove the veil please." With shaking hand, she did as the Shah told her and watched her Angel closely but his face was expressionless, though his eyes burned her to the core. What was she really expecting? Happiness? Surely she could not be that naive, considering the state she had left him back in his lair. She watched him turn back to the Shah as the older man addressed him.

"Her name is Christine Daae. Zahra will prepare her and send her to your room." She could see her Angel's jaw was clenched tight as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room without another word. As Zahra led her away in the opposite direction, she realized that for the first time since she had come to the palace, she did not feel afraid.

Her Angel was with her.


	2. First Night

**I decided to update while my muse is still cooperating for both fics. :) Thank you all so much for your reviews, alerts and favourites, I'm really glad you like my new idea. :)  
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**Not much to say about this, I hope you like it! :)**

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As Zahra led her through the corridors, Christine looked around with new eyes. Her Angel had designed all this! She had no idea he was talented in such wide range of things but she should not have been surprised. She was glad his talent was being recognized publicly, something he had unfortunately not achieved with his music for there were too many close minded people who let fear rule them. She had realized only too late she had let people influence her with their opinions, telling her how she should feel. She was tired of it. She wanted to make her own choices without anyone else dictating what she should do.

They came inside a nicely decorated private chamber, warm and inviting. She was led further into the room and inside a lavishly decorated bathroom, a large bathtub dominating it. Candles were lit around the room, casting it into a play of light and shadows. Zahra left her in the doorway and began to fill the tub with water, adding scented salts and sprinkling several rose petals into the water. Before she could blink, Zahra started to undress her and Christine could do nothing but stand there in shock.

"We need to prepare you, you need to be clean for your Master." She helped Christine into the tub and she sank down the warm water with a sigh, enjoying the sweet scent and the water against her skin. "I will leave you to bathe. I will be in the next room if you need anything." Christine only nodded and closed her eyes, letting her troubles slide for now. However, her eyes flew open when she realized what Zahra had said. She had completely forgot her purpose here since she had seen her Angel, happy to be in his presence. The truth was, he was now her _Master_ and she would be servicing him!

Swallowing at the thought, she considered her present standing. She was her Angel's property, free for him to do what he wanted with her. He had not seemed pleased with the Shah's decision and she wondered whether he would exercise his right to use her for his pleasure. The thought brought a furious blush to her cheeks, remembering the touch of his hands on her bare skin during Don Juan Triumphant and how it had affected her. Why she had done the unthinkable and removed his mask in front of the whole theatre, she did not know. She had been aware of the police officers closing in on them, perhaps she had done it to snap him from the spell and realize he had been in danger. It had worked and they had plummeted down the hidden trapdoor and he had dragged her to his lair. What had happened then made her heart clench; she regretted it had come to that point, causing her Angel to give her an ultimatum. How could she have chosen? She had not wanted him to kill Raoul, so the only choice had been to stay with him. She could not tell what had made her initiate the kisses, and although she wished the circumstances had been different, she did not regret her actions to this day. Yet, to her shock, he had let her and Raoul go. For the first time she had seen him in a new light; even when she knew letting her go had to kill him, his love had been selfless.

_Love._

Did he still love her? Considering his initial reaction to her presence, she dismissed that thought. She did not know how to feel about that fact but the shook her head. Was she so selfish to want his love after all this time and after all they had been through? Forcing her thoughts back to present, she wondered what he would do. Would he force himself at her? As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she shook her head resolutely. She knew he would not do such a despicable thing; he had not hurt her in the past, she trusted him and knew he would not do so now.

Realizing the water had turned colder, she quickly washed and then stepped out of the tub, drying herself with the provided thick white towel. As if on cue, Zahra knocked on the bathroom door.

"Christine, are you finished?"

"Yes." She held the towel to her body tightly, even though the woman had seen her naked already. She did not put up much of a fight when Zahra removed it and helped her back into her clothes. This time she paid attention how each piece was fastened, so that if the time came, she would be able to do it herself. Afterwards the older woman looked her up and down, nodding to herself. She reached up and briefly ran the back of her fingers against Christine's cheek, a motherly smile stretching her lips.

"You are beautiful. I have no doubt he will find you pleasing." When she saw Christine avert her eyes and blush slightly, she continued. "You don't need to be afraid, I am sure he will be gentle." Christine's blush deepened when Zahra led her outside. They had not walked for long as they came to stand in front of a door. She bit her lip. This was it. _The point of no return_, she thought with some amusement.

Zahra knocked on the door and after a soft reply from the inside, they both entered. Her eyes immediately found his form, sitting in a chair with a book in his hands. He barely looked at them as they entered.

"Here is your gift, sir." A sigh reached Christine's ears; it did not sound too happy.

"You may leave." Zahra gave a quick curtsy, giving Christine a last encouraging smile and darted out of the room.

He snapped the book shut as he stood, the soft sound echoing like a gunshot in the otherwise silent room. He returned it to the proper spot in the bookcase and leaned against the unit. The silence was stifling and lasted for a long moment; she was sure he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. What was she supposed to say? She did not even know his name! To her shame, she had not thought to ask back in the Opera, not allowing him the basic courtesy to introduce himself. She swallowed and waited, her hands clasped in front of her.

"What game is it that you are playing, Vicomtesse?" He said suddenly and even though his words were anything but friendly, she cherished the rich sound of his voice. She did not correct him on his assumption, feeling like he had something more to say. "Why must you torment me so?"

Her indignation rose with his last statement. Did he really think she derived some perverse pleasure from hurting him?

"_Torment_ you?" She said at last, her tone betraying her anger. It was then that he finally looked at her, the green of his eyes cold and menacing. However, she was not afraid. "I did not ask to be here, Monsieur!" Back at the Opera she would never dare to speak to the Phantom like this but the five months away had changed her. She was not the timid mouse she had once been.

"Of course not. If you knew I was here, you would not have come. You cannot deny that, Vicomtesse." She knew it was of no use to try and make him believe otherwise but in her heart she knew she would have come if she knew. Ever since that night she had often wondered what had become of him and had hoped that he was safe and not dead as many newspapers had claimed.

"Stop calling me that, I am not married." His visible eyebrow rose in surprise, but his expression remained cold and detached.

"This is not a good place for a married Frenchwoman, let alone an unmarried one. What was your boy thinking, letting you come here?"

"We were on a vacation when we were kidnapped." Something in his eyes softened and she watched him sigh, crossing the room and leaning against his desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Once again they fell silent and for the first time she allowed her eyes to leave the figure of her Angel and instead focus on his room. It was nothing short of beautiful; exotic and dark, yet with his personal touch. There was a large canopied bed in one corner, the black draperies slightly see through, giving one their privacy. Then there was a cozy reading corner with a bookcase filled from top to bottom with books, a comfortable chair which he vacated earlier nearby and a small chess table just off the side. In the other corner was his working desk, papers littering the surface, sketches of buildings and rooms from what she could see. There was a door that probably led to the bathroom and to her dismay, there was no music instrument.

Her eyes settled back on her Angel. He seemed deep in thought, his brow drawn and his lips set in a firm line. Whatever he was thinking she could not even guess. She decided to break the silence with the only question she could think of.

"What is your name?" He looked up in surprise, watching her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "I should have asked months ago. I am sorry." She hung her head in shame, looking at her clasped hands. There was a moment of silence and she was losing hope he would ever respond.

"Erik." He said quietly, all the previous anger in his tone gone; instead he sounded defeated. She gave him a genuine smile; who would have thought he had a Norse name, so close to her Swedish ancestry! Erik, meaning the ruler. Somehow, she felt the name was befitting her Angel. Swaying on her feet slightly, she felt all the fear and excitement from today leave her, making her feel exhausted and vulnerable. He had noticed and was quickly by her side, grasping her elbow slightly as he led her to the bed.

"You should rest."

Her mind swam with the knowledge of what was she sent here to do; was this how he was going to take her? She needn't have worried for he sat her on the bed and took a step back. He must have noted her hesitation and added softly:

"Sleep. You have nothing to fear from me."

In her heart she knew that and trusted him, so after he had drawn the draperies around the bed, she succumbed to a deep sleep.

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When Christine next awoke, she took a moment to remember where she was. So much had happened yesterday! She had found her Angel, _Erik_, again, even though it was through some rather stressing events. As she turned on her side on the comfortable bed, she had to admit she felt safe with him and knew he would try to protect her. She blinked several times and peered through the draperies, finding him in his chair nearby, reading a book. She took a moment to study him; he wore a simple white shirt and black trousers, his feet surprisingly bare and for a while she pondered if he had slept in that chair. Christine felt suddenly guilty for occupying the only bed in the room, thus robbing him of the comfort of his own bed. She rose into a sitting position and drew the draperies back, catching his attention with the motion.

"Good morning." He greeted her, setting aside the book.

"Good morning." For a reason unbeknownst to her, she blushed, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame it. She felt hungry for she had skipped lunch and supper yesterday but before she could ask if there was some food available, she noted his expression. He stood up and walked over to the bed.

"Undress." He said without a preamble and Christine's eyes widened.

"I beg your pardon?" Had she been wrong about him? Did he lie to lull her into a sense of false security only to _seduce_ her afterwards? She sat there frozen, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Breakfast will be served soon and the Shah will be looking for proof. If he does not find any proof that _something_ transpired here last night, he will put you into his harem or execute you." Horrified, she stared at him. Could the Shah really do that? One look into his eyes told her all that she needed to know. But surely simply disrobing will not be proof enough? Apparently Erik knew that as well and when he appeared with a small knife in his hand, she felt a wave of apprehension. He sat on the bed, gently telling her to make space.

She watched in horror as he dragged the knife across his palm, the sight of his precious blood seeping from the wound making her light headed. He did not make a sound when he brought his bloodied palm in the center of the bed, curling his fingers inside his palm, squeezing as much of the blood as he could. As she watched the crimson liquid stain the white sheets, she understood his intention, though she could not quite grasp the fact that he had hurt himself to protect her.

They both rose from the bed as Erik took the stained sheet with him, throwing it on the chair he had been occupying earlier.

"Undress, while I take care of this." He disappeared into the bathroom and she did as she was told, her heart pounding in her chest. She climbed back on the bed, clutching the covers around her tightly, awaiting his return. She spread her clothes haphazardly around the floor, hoping her arrangement gave the impression of clothes being shed impatiently in heat of passion. She blushed, trying not to think of it, banishing the explicit images of the two of them as soon as they emerged.

It was not long before Erik did return, his hand wrapped securely yet discreetly so as not to draw attention. He glanced her direction and his eyes followed the curve of her bare shoulder before he looked away, noting the strewn clothing at his feet. Christine blushed deeply, realizing only the cover was shielding his eyes from her nudity.

Voices and footsteps came from outside the room before there was a soft knock.

"Just a moment!" He called, giving her a look. "Lay back and pretend to sleep." She nodded and laid back, carefully moving to make sure the covers did not slip. He drew the draperies over the bed again and she watched as he reached for his shirt, tugging it from his trousers and over his head. She held her breath as he revealed his skin, which was now slightly tanned from the work he must have done outside on the palace. Her half-open eyes discreetly roved the lines of flesh; he was not overly muscular but very pleasing to look at. He ran his hand trough his hair several times, making it appear slightly mussed. He seemed to hesitate a bit but turned around to walk over to the door. She swallowed a gasp at the marks on his back, so many scars crisscrossing along his skin. She recalled the little of his past Madame Giry had imparted her and she felt angry at the world which had treated a young child so abysmally for something he could not help.

He opened the door and she clenched her eyes shut, feigning sleep yet straining her ears to hear. She heard a metal tray being set down on a table, glass and porcelain clinking together at the motion. Her stomach rumbled quietly at the thought of food.

"Good morning, dear master architect."

"Good morning, Your Majesty."

"I trust your gift was satisfactory?" She opened her eyes just a little bit, seeing the Shah peering over to the bed and the clothes strewn on the floor.

"Yes, Your Majesty. She is very...pleasing." Erik said, intentionally putting emphasis on the last part, leaving no doubt as to what he meant. Christine's cheeks felt hot and even when nothing of the sort had taken place here, she still felt embarrassed even about the pretended act. In her mind such things were only the couple's business and no other person's. Then again, here she was considered a commodity and Erik's property.

"Banu, take the old sheets and leave the clean ones here. In an hour return here to change them." The Shah motioned to the petite woman next to him.

"That will be not necessary, Your Majesty. I am sure Christine can take care of that."

"Very well. We will leave you to your breakfast. Enjoy your day."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Christine saw him bow slightly and when the door closed, he sighed in relief. She sat back up, clutching the cover to her, observing as he quietly drew the draperies open and carried the tray over to the bed.

"You must be hungry, you have not had supper last night." Christine nodded as he sat on the bed, pouring them both a cup of tea. She was fascinated as she watched him work; he remembered exactly how she liked her tea and unassumingly added two teaspoons of sugar and a bit of a lemon to her cup. There were two plates with a variety of fruit, bread and cheese and her mouth watered just from looking at it. She reached for her bread and nibbled on it, her eyes never leaving Erik as he ate casually. He had not replaced his shirt and his hair was still a little bit messy, almost just as Christine's were. She suddenly realized that for any onlooker they would seem like a couple enjoying breakfast together after a night of passion. A piece of bread almost lodged in her throat but she managed to swallow it, taking a sip from her cup and forcing herself not to blush. This whole situation was rather inappropriate, she was naked under the covers, for goodness sake!

"Thank you, Erik." He looked up at her and nodded, downing his cup. He sighed and looked at her with a grave expression on his face.

"You cannot stay here for much longer."


	3. Tranquillity

**Ermagherd, it's a new chapter! As always, thank you so much for your alerts, reviews and favourites!  
**

**Enjoy!**

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Erik's words surprised her but she knew he was right. This was not the place for her and she could not spend the rest of her life serving him while Raoul was confined to prison.

"You will help us?" Christine anticipated a cold look or stiffening of his body when she mentioned her fiance, but none of the reactions came. He was calm and collected, so unlike how she remembered him in their last days. It unnerved her a little for she could not guess his mood.

"Yes. I do not have a plan yet but rest assured you will be leaving within the next few days." He finished eating and before she could offer her thanks, he spoke up again, putting his shirt back on and running a hand through his hair to tame it. "However, I have to work on some of my plans for Shah's other residence and later today I must see how much progress is being made. You will be on your own then, though I do not recommend an attempt to escape if you value your life. Should you be caught, not even my protection will save you from Shah's wrath."

"Thank you. I will not run." He stared into her eyes as if to figure out if she was being truthful. She refused to look away from that penetrating gaze; she was no longer that meek little mouse that would cower beneath his stare. Instead and to her surprise, she felt a jolt of excitement course through her as she looked into those green orbs, painfully aware of her nudity beneath the sheets. Blush heated her cheeks but she was relieved to find him look away and walk over to his desk, sitting down without a word. She watched his back for a moment and when she felt it safe, she gathered her clothes and covered by the sheets, escaped into the bathroom.

Christine was unused to the fastenings of her Persian robe, so she fumbled with them clumsily for a while before she deemed she was presentable. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, the sheets neatly folded in her arms. She glanced at Erik, who was engrossed in his work and felt a pang of regret; they had barely spoken while she was here. But what did she expect? It was clear he did not want her in his life and she swallowed and buried the pain at the thought deep inside. She took the clean sheets that the servant woman brought and quietly redressed the bed, not wishing to disturb him. Once the bed was made and the pillows fluffed back up, she worked to discard of the plates from their breakfast, putting the kettle and their teacups aside. She had found a little kitchen behind a curtain and went to clean the dishes.

When she returned, her eyes darted between his back to his cup of tea. Christine had not much to do, so she decided to make herself useful. She carefully walked over to Erik's desk, setting his tea cup aside, far enough so that he would not knock it over and ruin his work. She filled the cup and added a bit of lemon as she had seen him do earlier. He did not acknowledge her presence nor said anything, but she had not expected him to. She put the kettle back on the coffee table and looked around the room, hoping to find something to entertain herself with. There was a chess table but Erik was too busy to play and her eyes settled on the bookcase. She approached the unit and let her eyes roam along the spine of each book. She had recognized a lot of the works and was surprised to see new volumes from her favourite authors and she had noticed a several books in languages she could not read.

Finally Christine decided on Shakespeare's tragedy 'Antony and Cleopatra' and settled down in the armchair Erik had been occupying earlier when she awoke. After the first few pages she found herself simply staring at the page in front of her. In the quiet space of the apartment she was hyper-aware of his presence, the soft scratching of a pen against paper, the shuffling of papers and the occasional clink of tea cup against the saucer. Her mind spun with questions, to which she had no answer to. How would Erik helped them escape? Raoul was in prison and she suspected he was heavily guarded. She trusted the former Phantom and knew he would help them, no matter the animosity between him and her fiancé.

Christine had a lot of time to reflect on the happenings after Don Juan and all those months after Erik had revealed himself to her. She wanted to kick herself for the things she had said about him in the heat of the moment or in her agitation during Il Muto. She had not meant any of those terrible things she had said. Human race had shunned him from the day he had taken his first breath and she was just like the rest of them. She could not bear that thought. She did not want to be like the rest and never meant to hurt him, yet she had hurt him more than anyone had ever done.

He had selflessly let her go, knowing that she would be happy with Raoul. That much she had discovered during the lonely days in the de Chagny estate when Raoul had been away for business. Yet, was she happy? She stared into the book until the letters started jumbling together. She knew the answer was no, at least not entirely happy. She had often wondered why she had felt as if something had been missing in her life. She was engaged to a man she loved, surely she should be deliriously happy? But no matter what she had done, she had often roamed the mansion hallways restlessly. Once she had been busy with rehearsals but now she had found herself with nothing to do. She could not visit her friends nor continue her career as an opera singer. Raoul had forbidden it, saying that it would remind people of the _scandal_. Christine had learned that one thing de Chagny family hated was being involved in any kind of scandal. It was one thing that they had reluctantly allowed Raoul to take a commoner as his wife, another was allowing a Vicomtesse to perform in _questionable_ costumes, as they had put it. No, Raoul's parents and friends did not like her.

She sighed softly, her eyes turning to the back of the man sitting at the table. Suddenly a piece of lyrics sprung into her mind.

_There will never be a day when I won't think of you._

She felt like years had passed since she had last sung this line yet knew the truth behind them. She had never been able not to think about Erik during these five long months. Whether it was a memory that surfaced in her mind or just a little thing like an elegant swirl of a letter in her or Raoul's correspondence that had reminded her of Erik's penmanship, there had never been a day when she didn't think of him. Raoul had steadfastly ignored any mention of her former tutor until one night, when he had told her the Phantom was dead. She had not wanted to believe it, thinking that she would have known deep inside if it were true. Raoul had reasoned that Erik must have died for otherwise he would have never left them alone. Christine had only smiled inwardly; she had known he would have kept his word and not pursue her further but had also known that Raoul would not have believed her. After that the topic of Opera Populaire had never been brought between them again. Christine wondered how Raoul would react if he knew her Angel was here, helping them both escape. Would it come to another confrontation between the two men? She hoped not and sighed softly, forcing herself back to her reading.

Couple of hours later her stomach began to growl lightly, telling her that she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Erik had been working all this time, not even sparing a glance at her. She closed the book and returned it back to its place. When she turned she found him standing up from his desk. Her breath caught when she met his calm green gaze and waited to see if he would speak.

"There are some supplies in the kitchen, feel free to make yourself a lunch."

"Oh, thank you." There was a moment of silence but Christine could not resist asking. "Why did the Shah instruct to bring breakfast when you have your own kitchen?"

"It is a custom. And it gives him an excuse to stick his nose where it doesn't belong." His tone was sharp but she knew it was not aimed at her, rather at the Persian emperor. Erik sighed. "I need to stretch my legs a little bit, I will be back soon." Christine only nodded and watched him leave before busying herself in the kitchen. She found fresh bread, ham, cheese and some fruit and decided to make ham and cheese sandwiches. She decided to prepare a plate for Erik for he had not eaten since breakfast as well. A few minutes later she heard him come back in and sit back at his desk. Picking up both their plates, she returned back to the main living area, placing her plate on the coffee table and on timid feet walked over to him. He looked up at her as she approached, his eyes fixed upon the plate in her hands, then back on her face.

"I thought you might like some food as well." She bit her lip when he didn't say anything, just studying her with his intense eyes. She cleared her throat slightly and forced herself not to fidget, wanting to get rid of this tension that settled between them. "It's not poisoned." In retrospect, her joke probably was not one of the wisest moves but when had she been wise when it came to this man? She waited with baited breath, expecting him to flow into rage but he simply kept looking at her. She knew her cheeks were aflame and lowered her gaze to the plate still in her hands.

"I wouldn't blame you if it were." His voice was soft, which made her look up at him. He was not angry, there was a hint of amusement playing in the corner of his lips but his eyes were so sad that it tugged violently at her heartstrings. Did he really think she would attempt to poison him? Did he think so little of her? Despite everything and all the things she had said about him, she could bear no ill will towards him. She watched him turn back to his work without another word. Swallowing, she placed the plate with two sandwiches and an apple near his tea cup, walking away to eat her own lunch in silence. Her eyes kept wandering to his back, wondering what he was thinking. After Christine finished her lunch she got up and carried the dishes into the kitchen, cleaning up after herself as best as she could and maybe a little overdoing it to stall for time. She did not know what she should say to Erik, feeling a little bit awkward. Years ago their conversations had been plentiful and varied, yet now they could barely speak two words to each other. Now she thought that making amends would be a little more difficult.

Finally she picked up the courage and left the kitchen, finding Erik in the living area putting on his black jacket.

"You are leaving?" He looked up from the buttons and his eyes met hers for a brief moment.

"Yes. I'll be back later. Do not open the door under any circumstances." She only nodded, biting her lower lip. His expression softened. "Thank you for the lunch." Her eyebrows rose and she looked from him to his table, finding little crumbs of bread and the core of an apple sitting on his plate. She smiled with delight and turned back, only to see the front door slipping shut. She sighed and looked around the room, searching for something to entertain herself with.

Finally she chose a different book, this time one of Shakespeare's comedies. She was not in the mood for more tragedy and comedy would bring a brief respite from her current reality.

It was nearing six o'clock in the evening and Christine just finished eating supper, having made a country french omelette with small pieces of ham and potatoes. It was nothing special but the food was rich and delicious. She nibbled on her last piece of bread, wondering when Erik would arrive back home. Christine didn't know when she started referring to his Persian apartment as their home. She had been here no more than a day!

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and she froze, holding her breath.

"Christine, it's me." She released the breath in relief and went to open the door. Erik was standing on the other side with two packages in his arms and let himself in when she made room. She watched him pause and without a doubt knew he could smell her cooking. He eyed her suspiciously with some amusement but she could see how tired he was. She flushed and averted her gaze, instead watching him as he laid the boxes on the coffee table.

"I cooked some dinner." She motioned to his table and the plate with omelette and saw the surprise in his eyes. "I figured that you would be hungry when you returned."

"I am rather famished but you did not have to go through all the trouble."

"It's the least I could do." Christine knew she was a burden for him, so by cooking meals for him and making herself useful she at least alleviated some of it. Shrugging off his jacket, Erik picked up his plate and to her surprise sat down in his armchair, not far from where she was sitting on the small sofa.

"I brought you something you might appreciate." Surprised, Christine looked at him questioningly. "I know you dislike wearing these...garments, so I've bought you something more comfortable and more appropriate." He said nonchalantly, gesturing to the boxes and then focused on his dinner. Her breath caught in her chest; he had bought her clothes, knowing she did not like wearing revealing costumes, even on the stage. She inched closer to the boxes and lifted the lid from the top one. Her eyes widened at the royal blue silk trimmed with gold that she uncovered.

"Thank you, Erik." It was the first time she had spoken his name and she could see his Adam's apple bob up and down before averting her gaze and running her fingers over the fine cloth.

"Perhaps you would like to try it on? And if you'd like, we can go for a little walk." His eyes were on her face and she looked back up at him, smile spreading on her lips as she nodded. Erik knew she did not have much to entertain herself with in his absence, so she appreciated his gesture. Christine rose and cradled the packages in her arms like two treasures and disappeared into the bathroom.

She opened the other box and found a nice long nightgown. She bit her lip and a wave of tenderness for the masked man swept over her. Ever since she set foot into his apartment, he had seen to her comfort; even gave up his own bed and possibly risked Shah's favour in aiding their escape. Pushing the thought back into her mind, she focused on undressing before pulling the blue garments out of the package. While they were still in Persian fashion, they were much more modest than her current costume. Her midsection was fully covered; the neckline did not sweep too low. Instead of a skirt, there was a pair of loose trousers with elasticised hem around the ankles. She did not feel comfortable wearing no undergarments, so she opted to leave them on and hurriedly put on the new costume. Christine looked at herself in the mirror and smiled; this was so much better and at last she did not feel as if she was walking around naked most of the time.

Taking a deep breath, she exited the bathroom and found Erik standing in the middle of the living area, his hands behind his back. His eyes lifted to hers when he heard her enter. She felt peculiar warmth suffuse her body at his gaze, trying to ward off a blush that rushed to her cheeks for some unknown reason.

"Shall we?" She nodded and together they walked out into the vast hallway. The sun had already set and the halls were shrouded in shadows despite the oil lanterns hanging from the ceiling and the walls. They walked side by side in silence, occasionally passing some Persian men. The first two men leered openly at her and she inched herself closer to Erik, who noticed her apprehension and gave the two men a dark glare, satisfied when they lowered their eyes. Grateful for his intervention, she could not help but slip her hand into his. Christine felt his whole arm tense but a few moments later his fingers curled around her hand as well, holding her gently within the safe warmth of his large hand.

They came upon an open hallway, each side decorated with arches overlooking the palace gardens. Each arch had a small bench with padded cushions atop them, making this place look very comfortable and inviting. They stopped at one such bench and sat down upon it. The gardens took Christine's breath away, wonderfully lit in the dark, making them befitting a fairy tale, something right out of_ One Thousand and One Nights_. Water bubbled in a pond nearby, decorated with water lilies and populated by a colourful family of fish. This place held alluring tranquillity and if they weren't in danger of the Shah discovering their little subterfuge and planned escape, she could imagine sitting here with Erik every night, talking like they used to back in Paris. A vision of them sharing kisses here under the moonlit sky wormed her way into her mind.

Christine halted her train of thought; she could not think such things, not when she was engaged to Raoul! She blushed, grateful her companion was overlooking the gardens and not looking at her. When he spoke up, she had managed to suppress her red cheeks and focus on what he was saying.

"Why have you come to Persia? Why not England, Italy or even Sweden?" She smiled slightly at his mention of her country of birth. In truth, she did want to visit Sweden one day, see it with the eyes of an adult woman instead of a small child. She did not remember much for she and her father had left the country when she had been five.

"I do not know. We just needed to get out of France for a while. Perhaps because everything is so different from what we know." He nodded and she could tell he wanted to ask her about the wedding that had not yet taken place. She was not going to confess to him that hers and Raoul's relationship was far from idyllic, not wanting him to know she was wrecked with doubt since leaving his lair. Maybe she should not have listened to his order to leave, maybe she should have grown a backbone and stood up for her decision. Alas, such thought were now useless.

"Why did you chose such exotic country?" Christine asked at last, wanting him to open up a little bit. The corner of his mouth quirked up a wry smile.

"For the same reason." She understood even though he did not explain. She was curious about what happened to him but knew that he would not divulge anything at this moment. She looked away from him and breathed in the night air, enjoying the view of the gardens once more.

"Christine?" Erik asked softly but hesitantly. She looked back at him, enjoying the way her name floated out of his lips, only to become transfixed by his green gaze. "Would you like to visit your fiancé?"


	4. Escape

**Well, we are almost at the end (I know it may not seem so, but it's true). Thank you all so much for your reviews, alerts, reads and favourites! **

**Before you start reading, I have a question for all of you. I could end this fic the next chapter and change the rating of the whole story to T, or I can end it in two chapters, provided that the last chapter would warrant the M rating. It's up to you! :D**

**Anyways, happy reading!**

* * *

Christine stared at Erik in surprise. She had never expected him to say something like that. While she wanted to see if Raoul was unharmed and treated well, she also wanted to stay here and talk with Erik, somehow make him let her in. The invisible wall he put up between them was tall and thick, making her progress tougher.

"Is it safe?"

"Yes. I have arranged you a short visit." Why was he doing this? He did not have to do anything for her, yet he went out of his way to see to her comfort and now acted in kindness by letting her visit her fiancé.

"I would like that." Erik simply nodded and stood. She followed his example and let him lead the way in silence. She did not take his hand this time for he walked with his hands clasped behind his back. She was walking next to him but it felt like she might as well have been back in France by the distance he suddenly put between them. They went down several flights of stairs and when they turned the corner, Christine spotted the jade-eyed gentleman from yesterday. When he saw them, he gave Erik a subtle nod and unlocked an iron door, which she suspected led to the prison. Erik gently took her wrist and pulled her behind a wide column away from sight. Her heart hammered in her chest as she heard voices talking in foreign language. She cautiously peeked out from their hiding spot and saw Monsieur Khan and one of the guards who had captured her and Raoul walking in the direction her and Erik just came from. She saw the chief of police put his hand behind his back, moving his fingers in some sort of silent message. They rounded the corner and disappeared from their sight.

Erik's fingers were still curled around her wrist as he led her to the open iron door.

"You don't have much time, try to make it short." She nodded in understanding when he let go of her hand. She took a step inside but before she could go further, his voice stopped her. "Christine?" She turned and their eyes met in the dim lights. "It is better that you don't mention me." She bit her lip in understanding and let herself inside.

The prison chamber was poorly lit and the cells were clouded in darkness. She could hear snoring from most of the cells, so she called out quietly.

"Raoul?" There was a long moment of silence, the only thing she could hear was her own breathing and the thundering of her heart in anxiety.

"Christine?" Her fiancé's voice came from her right and as her eyes adjusted, she saw Raoul, standing up from the ground and approaching the iron bars of his cell. He was greatly dishevelled and dirty but otherwise looked unharmed. "Christine!" He reached for her through the bars and she grasped his hand gently.

"Shh, we don't have much time." She cast a glance to the large iron door entrance.

"I'm glad you are here. Are you alright? Were you harmed? The guard said some horrible things! Something about a harem and a gifted slave for the palace's architect!"

"I'm fine, Raoul. Truly." His eyes roved over her, a small frown marring his features as he eyed her clothing with distaste. Suddenly she was glad she had changed into her new clothes and did not want to think what he would say about her other costume. "I was gifted to the architect. He is a Frenchman and I told him what happened to us. He offered to help us escape."

"And you would trust some stranger, Christine?" She bit her lip, thinking of how she could make him believe her without revealing Erik's identity. Then again, would Raoul decline Erik's help in aiding their escape? Without anyone to help them their chance of being free again was slim.

"He cut himself to fool the Shah he had taken my virtue and has protected me ever since. So yes, I do trust him when he says he will help us." Christine was aware that her tone turned defensive and hoped Raoul did not notice. He nodded, seeming to accept her faith in this _stranger_.

"I do not know what will happen or how or when we will escape, but he said soon. Please be prepared. Are they treating you well?"

"Yes, better than I could have imagined. I get regular meals and water."

"That's good. You need to be strong in case we have to fight our way out." She could see that thought did not sit well with him.

"I failed you, Christine. I should have protected you better."

"Don't worry, Raoul. I'm safe." Her mind turned to the man guarding the front door from the other side. As if on cue, there was a knock on the metal door and she took it as a signal that they had to leave. "I have to go, Raoul. I will see you later. Don't tell anyone of my visit." She squeezed his hand briefly before letting go.

"I love you, Christine." She gave him a little smile and a nod before rushing to the main door.

Once they were back in Erik's apartment, Christine could breathe easier. Other than her thanking him for giving her the opportunity to visit Raoul, they had not said a word during the journey back. He had been deep in thought and she did not dare disturb him in any way. Even though her day was more or less uneventful, she found herself weary, only wishing to crawl into bed and sleep. She watched as Erik wordlessly slid into his seat behind his desk, shuffling some papers around. She sighed and went to change into her nightclothes, tucking herself in his bed and staring at his back. The sound of a pen scratching against the paper lulled her into a deep sleep.

* * *

When Christine awoke, she heard two voices floating from the living area. One was distinctly Erik's, the other belonged to another man, but she could not place it.

"It is not going to be easy, Erik." The other man said, his French heavily accented. Despite Madame Giry's voice in her head telling her to behave like a proper lady, she could not help but eavesdrop, not moving an inch. Her eyes were still closed, even though her back was to the two men behind the bed's draperies.

"I know that, Nadir."

"You could still change your mind." Nadir said and Christine knew what he was insinuating; that Erik could still keep her and leave Raoul in prison.

"And then do what?" Erik's voice was calm and soft, yet she could sense a slight edge to his tone."No, I will not break my promise, I could not do that to her." Christine swallowed a sudden lump in her throat at the sincerity in his voice. She heard Nadir sigh heavily.

"You are fully aware of the consequences, Erik. Are you sure you want to do this?" Worry seeped into his words and Christine could sense it. What did he mean by consequences?

"I want to do this. She deserves better than this place. Her spirit would be crushed, she would not survive for long here."

"Will you tell her?"

"I will tell her only what she needs to know."

"Erik-"

"_You_ will tell her the same." Erik's tone was harsh and his words left no room for argument. What were they talking about? What could possibly Erik want to hide from her?

"This is madness, Erik!" She heard a violent scrape of chair against the floor and then a thud as it toppled over.

"You fool, you will wake her!" Erik hissed and she figured now it was a good time to stop pretending. She turned onto her back with a low moan, hoping she sounded as if she just awoke. She blinked sleepily and turned onto her other side, propping herself on her hand.

"Erik?" She called out and drew the draperies back. The two men looked her way before Erik walked over to her.

"I'm sorry, Christine. We did not mean to wake you."

"It's alright." She ran a hand through her unruly hair, her eyes drifting from Erik to the man standing further back. The masked man followed her line of sight.

"Bonjour Monsieur."

"Mademoiselle." The man bowed slightly, looking a bit nervous under her gaze.

"What is going on? Why is Monsieur Khan here?"

"We've come up with a plan. But first you should have something to eat." Christine nodded and both men moved back to the living area, giving her privacy. She went to the bathroom to clean up and dress, impatient to hear news of this plan. From their earlier conversation she knew that Erik was hiding something. It would be next to impossible to make him reveal his secrets, so she hoped that Nadir would be more forthcoming if she had the opportunity to get him away from Erik for a few moments. She reached for the door handle but her hand stopped when their slightly raised voices sounded through the door.

"You are my friend, Erik. I cannot let you do this, there has to be some other way."

"If there was another way, believe me, we would not be having this conversation. I spent all night thinking it over. I have no other choice, Nadir."

"I understand." Silence stretched between them and Christine decided to leave the bathroom, her stomach urging her to quickly prepare herself some breakfast. As she came into the parlour, the two men were already sat, Erik in his customary armchair and Monsieur Khan in a chair that had been pulled away from Erik's desk. To her surprise, a tray was already prepared for her; a fresh croissant, strawberry marmalade, an apple, a steaming cup of tea and a glass of orange juice neatly arranged around it. She sat down on the couch timidly, her eyes darting between the two men. Erik gestured to the tray, silently telling her to start eating.

"You said you came up with a plan?" She asked as she smeared her croissant with the marmalade, then taking a small bite.

"Yes. You will be leaving tonight." She had to swallow hard as the morsel suddenly lodged in her throat. Tonight? She had not expected it to be so soon, maybe in a couple of days but not today. Christine had wanted to make amends with Erik and gain their friendship back, but it would not be possible to accomplish so much in so little time.

"Releasing the Vicomte from his cell should be fairly simple." Erik continued, unaware of her inner turmoil.

"That is, if he accepts your help." Nadir piped in and the masked man shot him a glare. The olive skinned man obviously knew everything about her and Erik's past. She too had wondered what would Raoul's reaction be when the true identity of their helper were revealed. Would it come to another confrontation between the two men? From Erik's expression she could tell he would not seek a fight but Christine could very well imagine Raoul charging at the masked man to protect her. Ironically, she did not need protecting from Erik at all but Raoul would never believe that.

"He will have no choice." She stated resolutely, surprising the two men.

"We will have to sneak past the Shah's guards, Nadir will provide necessary distraction. Nadir's manservant Darius will escort you from there and into their house, where you will wait for Nadir. The train to Istanbul leaves at eleven o'clock tonight. You will be accompanied by both Nadir and Darius for the duration of this ride." Christine went over his words in her head, yet there was still that nagging thought in the back of her mind. _And what about you, Erik?_

"I understand." Her gaze darted between the two men and while Erik met her eyes calmly, she noticed Nadir avoiding her eyes and staring into his tea cup instead. "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Just stay put. Me and Nadir have some things we need to take care of, we will see you in the evening."

* * *

True to Erik's word, she had not seen him all day until later in the evening. She had tried to keep herself busy but in the end she had just sat in the armchair and looked at nothing in particular, lost in thought. How had her life come to this? She had been happy yet now she felt torn and guilty for not feeling things she should be. As mad as it sounded, she did not want to leave here. _Not without Erik._ , her subconscious added. The door of the apartment opened and she jumped up, watching as Erik entered alone. His face was drawn and she immediately felt concerned.

"Is something wrong?" He simply shook his head.

"If you are ready, we can leave." While the details about their escape had been rather sketchy, she trusted Erik to know what he was doing.

"What about you?" He looked up at her in surprise but remained silent. "You can come with us." She offered weakly, knowing he would not accept it. She had to try at least.

"Why would I do that, Christine?" Their eyes met as he spoke in a soft defeated tone, before breaking their gaze and turning his back to her, keeping his hands busy with ordering the papers on his desk.

"I just-" She stopped herself, not knowing what to say. Of course he would decline, why was she surprised? Since when could she have both? It had always been one or the other. "I wanted to thank you. You did not have to help us but you did anyway. And for that I am very grateful." Christine closed the distance between them and pressed herself against his back, her arms wrapping against his torso. She felt him tense and stop his motions but she did not care. At this moment she needed to feel him close, inhale his scent, hold him for what was likely to be their first and last time. Her throat clogged up with emotion and she closed her eyes against the burning sensation behind her eyes.

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. _Please_ be happy." She could not speak even if she wanted to. His confession and plea robbed her of her breath and words. She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. When he gently took one of her hands and pressed a feathery kiss on the back of it, she had to bite her lips to keep herself from crying. She let him remove her arms from around him and step aside.

"Erik, I-" There were so many things she wanted to say and when he turned to look at her, there was a knock on the front door. He went to open it and she closed her eyes briefly in disappointment. On the other side of the door stood a rather solemn faced Nadir, looking at Erik and then past him at Christine.

"Are you two ready?" She felt Erik's eyes on her and she looked from Nadir to him, their eyes connecting and holding for a few moments. She swallowed and nodded.

They walked a few minutes in silence before Nadir turned to them.

"You are on your own for now. Wait for my signal."

Once again they watched as the chief police officer distracted the guard and together they went inside the prison. Christine immediately went to Raoul's cell, grasping the metal bars with her hands.

"Raoul!" She whispered into the dark, relieved to find him emerging from the shadows.

"Christine?"

"Quiet, we don't have much time." She looked back at Erik who was out of Raoul's sight. He wordlessly gave her the key to the cell. She quickly opened it and winced at the violent squeak it gave, not wishing to rouse the other prisoners. Her fiancé wasted no time and hurried out of the cell, catching a glimpse of Erik in the shadows.

"You!" Raoul growled menacingly, his face twisting into shock and rage. Christine cast a glance at the masked man, who remained standing still, the visible side of his face was calm, yet his eyes were hard and cold. She quickly stepped between the two men when she saw Raoul take a step towards his enemy, pressing her small hand firmly against his chest to stop him. Raoul looked at her in surprise, taking in her stern expression. "What is _he _doing here?" He spat and her eyes narrowed; she really did not wish to get into an argument right now.

"It was you all along!" Her fiancé suddenly exclaimed and she tried to quiet him.

"What are you talking about, Raoul?"

"Can't you see, Christine? He was the one who orchestrated all this and now has you in his clutches once again!" Christine suppressed the need to roll her eyes; only Raoul could think up such ridiculous theory.

"If that were the case, why would he be helping us escape?" She hissed in low voice and for the moment the man looked subdued as she pointed out a flaw in his logic. "I don't want to argue right now, Raoul. Can we please just go?"

"If I were you, I would listen to your fiancée, Vicomte." Erik's disdain for his rival was evident in the tone of his voice. Raoul just glared at him but said nothing, taking her hand in a tight grip as if one wrong look from Erik would take her from his side. "Follow me." Erik said curtly and led them out, through several corridors and hidden passages.

"Halt!" Came a deep booming voice from behind them and the trio found themselves surrounded by three guards; two in front of them, one in the back. She could hear Erik curse under his breath. His fingers wrapped around the wrist of her free hand and gently tugged her behind him for safety. Her eyes widened when she saw him withdraw his famous lasso from the sleeve of his jacket. The guards drew their swords and inched towards them. Erik cast a quick nod to Raoul in a peculiar display of camaraderie as he handed him a knife. The guard behind them was luckily not armed with a sword, so Raoul was in advantage. The two men on each of her side attacked the guards at the same time, Erik swiftly attaching his lasso to both their throats at once and gave a quick yank. She watched as the two guards toppled to the ground with wide eyes and only remembered Raoul when his hand enveloped hers once again. He had incapacitated the third guard by knocking him unconscious. Erik saw her watching the two bodies in front of them.

"They will live. They are merely unconscious." She nodded mutely. "Come." They followed him through another set of hallways and thankfully there were no more guards to stop them. Finally they were almost outside; she could see the back entrance of the palace and the city's lights just outside the gates. Nadir and, who she presumed was his servant Darius, were waiting for them there. After quick introductions, the two men briefed Raoul on their next steps. Christine and Erik found themselves alone a short distance away from the three men. He leant against the wall, his hands in his trouser pockets, and studied her face. He looked oddly vulnerable and she wanted to reach out and touch him to dispel such emotion.

She did not want to say goodbye in this manner, she never wanted to say goodbye to him ever again. She knew this was probably the last time she would ever see him and a sudden despair seized her chest. Her words stuck in her throat and when she felt Raoul's fingers encircling her wrist, she felt panic rise within her.

"Christine, come." He said but her eyes were riveted to the green orbs of the masked man. She stood unmoving even after she felt a soft tug on her arm from her fiancé. Her free hand started to reach out to Erik but dropped as Raoul tugged harder. She had no other choice but to follow him, yet her eyes never left those of her Phantom. She saw him swallow and his jaw clench.

If leaving him in his lair five months ago had been painful, leaving him now was shattering her heart into tiny pieces. She let her tears fall freely as she was being led further from Erik, the pain in her chest debilitating. Once the door of the prepared carriage was shut behind her and the vehicle started to move, she felt empty once again.


End file.
